Genesis has beautiful form, though. His fighting style is so unique. It's like he's dancing. And he's building momentum even as he spins. Sephiroth just swats him away of course, but even then you can't help but admire his fancy footwork. Even more so that he's actually one of the few people who actually manages to keep up with Seph.
Hello! Can I ask for very fluff Xaden Riorson x reader please🥺
Of course you can! Xaden needs all the fluff. I hope you enjoy, anon! :) Thank you for requesting!
In your defense you had tried to warn him.
Your dragon had always had a good sense for the weather, and he had warned you this would happen if the two of you took too long.
Of course, there was no way you could have predicted the venin guards or that you would have to scrap your plans to get out of there unnoticed.
Or how your next plan would immediately go to shit, and you’d end up killing them all anyway just to keep your presence secret.
It definitely caused a delay.
Now you were soaked, your dragons were slippery and irritable, huddled under a crumbling bridge downstream. You and Xaden had taken shelter in what barely passed for a stronghold. Four standing walls and half a roof.
The wind howled through the cracks, and the stone you sat on was hard, wet, and unforgiving. It didn’t help you stop shivering, but you were grateful to be out of the rain.
Xaden, on the other hand, was in the process of starting a fire. Thank gods you had the materials for that in your packs. You’d much rather use it for this than its normal purpose of burning riders that had fallen.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You asked Xaden through chattering teeth.
He looked back over his shoulder and frowned. His gaze swept over you, taking in your soaked clothes and trembling hands. “What I need is for you to get dry.”
You huffed a laugh, more air than sound. “And how do you suggest I do that?”
He arched a brow, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Well, you can start by taking your clothes off.”
Despite the chill, you could resist the urge to tease him. “If you wanted me naked, Riorson, all you had to do was ask.”
He rolled his eyes at you, but the smirk lingered. “We’ll lay everything near the fire to dry faster. You’ll freeze if you stay like that.”
You nodded. That made sense, but you weren’t looking forward to sitting on this cold stone in your underwear. It couldn’t be worse than sitting in wet socks though.
Stripping out of everything but your underwear, you hung your clothes from a jut of stone as Xaden coaxed the fire to life. The rush of warmth made you sigh in relief, and you stepped closer, holding out your hands and willing the trembling to stop.
Xaden disappeared behind you for a moment, and you heard the soft shuffle of movement before a blanket settled around your shoulders, thin, but soft and blissfully dry.
“Better?” He whispered near your ear, fingers gently tugging your damp hair free from beneath the fabric so it wouldn’t cling to your neck.
You leaned back against him without thinking. Even through his wet clothes, his skin radiated heat. “Mhmm . . . but you’re warmer.”
He chuckled, the sound low in his chest, and pressed a kiss to your cheek, lingering just a heartbeat longer than usual. “Give me a second.”
Then he was gone, and you immediately missed the heat of him. Your disappointment faded fast though when he stepped into view, bare except for his underwear, and hung his clothes beside yours to dry.
You couldn’t help but look. The firelight caught on the ridges of his muscles, the defined lines of his shoulders, the blue shimmer of his relic. The map of scars across his back caught your eye, a quiet reminder of everything he carried. It warmed you in a way the blanket never could.
Without a word, he pulled another blanket from his pack and laid it out in front of the fire. He sat down, stretched out his legs, and looked over his shoulder at you. “Are you going to join me or not?”
You didn’t need to be asked twice.
Settling in front of him, you let him pull you into his lap, your back to his chest, legs tucked between his. His arms wrapped around you, grounding you, and your head tipped back against his collarbone. Xaden was an inferno. Your cold limbs thawed against him, the chill easing from your skin in waves. “Gods, I love how warm you are.” You murmured, wrapping your arms around one of his like it was a pillow.
“Yeah, I can tell by the way your feet always seem to find their way between my legs every night.” Xaden teased, and when you looked up he was smirking at you.
You looked up at him with mock outrage. “Well, would you rather they end up in your face? Maybe that would stop you from snoring.”
“I do not snore.” Xaden leaned down, nuzzling his face against the side of yours for a moment before murmuring. “And I’d much rather wake up with something else in my face.”
He nipped at your ear, sending a warm shiver through your entire body.
Heat rushed through you, quick and wicked, at his words and the image he planted in your mind. “Xaden Riorson.” You gasped, feigning scandal. “I can’t believe you’re having such inappropriate thoughts.”
“In my defense,” he said, brushing your hair aside to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We are almost naked.”
You laughed, tightening your hold on his arm. “You’ve got me there.”
He smiled against your skin, then shifted to tuck your head beneath his chin. You felt the quiet hum of his contentment in the steady rise and fall of his chest.
The rain softened into a steady rhythm, the crackling fire a gentle counterpoint. The cold that had sunk into your bones faded. Your muscles unwound, and warmth bloomed where his skin met yours. You hadn’t felt this comfortable, this still, in what felt like forever. Most nights, exhaustion dragged you both into bed after missions or training - or other, more distracting activities.
This was different. This was peaceful. Intimate without urgency. It was the quiet privilege of being close.
Your hand started tracing the lines of his relic as a clap of thunder roared overhead, and a memory stirred behind your closed eyes, making you smile. “You know what this reminds me of?”
“What?” he replied, voice soft.
“Do you remember when we were little, and I was so terrified of storms I’d run into your room?” Your smile grew wider as the memories played out. “You’d distract me with your toys or stories?”
“How could I forget?” A low chuckle rumbled in Xaden’s chest as his hand skimmed along your side. “One time lightning struck outside, and you hid under my bed for three hours. I got stuck trying to get you out.”
Heat flushed your cheeks, remembering how it had taken another half hour for you to shove the mattress off his bed and drag him out from under there by his feet. “I have a confession.” You said, tilting your head so you could look up at him, biting your bottom lip. “I stopped being scared of storms when I was like sixteen.”
His brow lifted slightly.
“I just liked it when you held me.”
You expected him to look surprised. Maybe a teasing quip.
But instead he just smiled. A soft, boyish smile that cracked something open inside you, because it wasn’t Lieutenant Riorson looking at you like that. It was the Xaden from before everything had been taken from you both. “I know.”
Your eyes widened. “What?” A startled laugh left your lips. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”
Xaden shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” his eyes softened as he looked at you, so full of affection it made your chest ache. “Probably had something to do with the fact that I had a massive crush on you.”
You couldn’t help the slow smirk that pulled at your lips. “You had a crush on me?” You leaned closer, voice full of faux pity. “Oh, how adorable -”
He cut off your words with a kiss.
It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t desperate or heated with fear that the two of you might not survive the night.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss that felt like a last chance.
No, this one was slow, as sweet as chocolate and as warm as the fire crackling in the pit in front of you. It was a kiss that held you steady even in the middle of a rainstorm in an abandoned stronghold. This was a kiss to savor. A memory to think about when fighting the war didn’t seem worth it anymore.
This kiss was a promise. A tether. A kiss that said, I’m not letting you go.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, and in them, you saw everything. The past. The future.
You knew, without a doubt, your gaze held the same softness. The same love.
A love you’d fight every venin on the continent to protect.
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